


when we were young.

by alilacviolin



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 23:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6097838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alilacviolin/pseuds/alilacviolin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>liam finds a shoebox that he wished he didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when we were young.

He had lived his life in a simple routine. Consistency was of the essence at work and essential in his life. Liam prided himself in consistency and punctuality. 

Everyday he arrived at work precisely at nine, rarely a minute later or earlier. He would give a polite smile to the receptionist, ask for his messages, and promptly begin work. At exactly five thirty, he would bid the other employees a good night and return home. On spontaneous nights, when things went especially well, he would reward himself with a dinner at the same restaurant a block away from his apartment. 

Liam found nothing wrong with routines. Organization was the key to his sanity, and he intended to keep organized for as long as he lived. Though his friends and coworkers invited him dozens of times to parties or gatherings, he often made excuses or politely declined.

Everything was polite, polished, and simple. 

Until one night, where Liam was particularly pleased and decided to go through his old things. 

High school wasn’t the greatest time of his life. It wasn’t the worst either, but he hardly remembered anything. Liam wasn’t an outsider, but he wasn’t exactly popular. He was a good student and a good person, but never cared much to have more than a couple friends. 

He shuffled to the side of the house where he kept his old things, red wine sloshing in a glass. This will be interesting to see.

For hours he sat, laughing to himself at ridiculous polaroids and various photographs of himself and others. He was young and happy then, before the planned days and nights. Yearbooks were signed with messages promising to keep in touch and phone numbers he wasn’t sure were still in service. The dust that had collected over the memories was now covering Liam as he spread everything out in a mess. 

He finally reached a small Adidas shoebox that he remembered getting from his sixteenth birthday. He vaguely remembered what it entailed, and he set his wine glass down, shaking the box slightly. He softly ran his finger along the edges of the box, before taking the lid completely off. 

Inside were various dated photographs of himself and another boy, letters, and little trinkets from different countries. 

The flood of memories and emotions overwhelmed Liam as his eyes glazed over the contents of the shoebox. He suddenly wished very much that he hadn’t opened it. 

Carefully, he picked up one polaroid photo. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen, with his barely-there stubble and shining eyes. He propped up his chin with one fisted hand and looked adoringly at another boy who was mirroring his actions. _L & Z – 06/05/11._

Another photo had him picking up the same boy on his back, the pair of them laughing. Another showed them pushing each other in shopping carts. 

Liam couldn’t help but stare at one particular photo he vividly remembered taking. It was on the night of their school’s prom, and both of them had refused to go. Instead, Liam spent the day with Zayn, a boy he considered his best friend. He had taken pictures of the camera shy boy, and captured one with his eyes closed. His lips were parted, as if he had been caught mid-sentence, and a rosy color. His eyelashes were thick and dark, just barely brushing the apples of his cheeks. He was breathtaking, and it pained Liam to remember it. 

He reached the bottom of the shoebox filled with various letters and postcards the pair had exchanged. A ghost of a smile was on his lips as he looked through the different ones, recalling the dozens of trips he had taken and sent Zayn postcards from. Zayn had always replied with a postcard from home, inquiring when Liam would return. 

_L,_

_I don’t particularly care for islands. They seem overrated and humid._

_England is the same – it’s rained the whole time you’ve been gone. School is awfully boring without someone to bitch with, but don’t tell the other lads. You’re my favorite to talk to anyways._

_Come home soon. That’s the only gift I want from that place. We need sunshine and I’ve got a nasty feeling your absence had something to do with the gloomy weather here._

_xx – Z_

Liam remembered that in the summer after his eleventh year, his family took a trip to the Hawaiian Islands. It was nothing special and he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as the rest of the family, sending dozens of postcards and letters to Zayn. 

The box seemed harmless. These were simply memories of a lost friendship, as with all of the previous photos and letters he had seen. He almost put the box away before an envelope in the box caught his eye. 

He knew that he shouldn’t read the letter, that it would simply stir up unwanted feelings and emotions he had learned to bury years ago. Liam stared at the envelope for awhile, looking at the addresses. He no longer lived with his parents and he was certain he could say the same for Zayn. The stamp was worn. 

He slowly took the envelope out of the box and tore it open, taking a shaky breath. He did not want to be reminded of what happened with Zayn, yet a part of him wanted to _feel_ something again. 

_Zayn,_

_I’m deeply and utterly terrified right now. I’m completely afraid._

_I want to first apologize for everything. For ignoring you, for being weird, for doing anything that has made you upset. The last thing I ever wanted was to make you upset, so please forgive me._

_I was genuinely distressed after that night. For the past 48 hours I have been sitting in bed, just waiting for a phone call or a text or even an email, but I’ve gotten nothing to make me believe that you wanted to talk to me. I know, it’s silly that I just waited for you to come to me, but I thought that you wouldn’t have responded._

_I don’t know what we are at the moment or what we’re doing but we can’t run from the facts. We kissed. To me, that changes a lot of things between us._

_Zayn, you have been my best friend for years now and I have yet to feel this flustered in talking to you, hence the reason for my letter. I don’t know what I feel, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ve liked you more than a friend for a long time now._

_Whenever you would look at me, I would get this feeling in my stomach and my chest that wouldn’t go away. It felt like being warmed up by some weird generator that only you could turn on. It was like an orb of light and happiness and joy that would just fill me up for the rest of the day. Just one look or smile would do that to me._

_When you laugh, I laugh too. It’s because it sounds almost melodious. When you laugh, it makes me smile. It makes me want to make you laugh even more, because maybe I could be happy for the rest of my life._

_I used to feel ashamed because sometimes I would dream of you and your eyes and your lips. I would dream about tracing your face with my fingers, and then my lips, and I would dream about kissing your eyelids and your nose and your cheeks. I would never tell you because I didn’t want to ruin the amazing friendship we had.  
When I kissed you and you didn’t pull away, I thought for a second that it wasn’t real. I thought that I was dreaming. But when you left without saying a word, I knew that things would change between us forever. _

_I don’t know if I’ll send you this letter. I don’t know if you’ll ever read it. I don’t know if we’ll ever speak again._

_I wouldn’t go so far as to say I love you, but I don’t really know what love is. I’d like to hold your hand sometimes and I’d like to take you to an island. I want to take you around the world, in fact, and make you smile a lot and laugh a lot and be happy every day of your life. I’d want to make you happy, Zayn._

_If love is feeling warmth and joy and safety, then I really, undoubtedly love you._

_I’m sorry,_

_L._

Liam felt his face heat up and he violently shoved the letter in the shoebox, kicking it away. He grabbed the glass of wine and drained it quickly, his breathing irregular and rapid. He hadn’t realized that he was crying until he rubbed his eyes and face. 

He never sent the letter to Zayn out of cowardice. He hadn’t spoken to him since that night all those years ago, and he deeply regretted it. If he had been brave, his life might have had a difference. He might have woken up to Zayn’s cheeks and dark eyelashes in the morning, and cooked them breakfast. Zayn might have persuaded him into taking the job that he wanted, instead of his generic desk job. He might not have had stupid, stupid, stupid routines. He might have woken up and went to bed with his heart filled with love and genuine happiness.

Liam threw himself onto his bed with his clothes and socks on, willing himself to sleep. He was tipsy, emotional, and in no mood to be polite. 

The next morning he arrived at work at nine fifteen.


End file.
